


How Space Pirate Captains Take Their Coffee

by Yarol2075



Category: Captain Harlock
Genre: Fluff, Gen, No Plot/Plotless, Purplish Proses, Rambling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 13:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15001424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yarol2075/pseuds/Yarol2075
Summary: Things are changing on the Arcadia, and the new Captain Harlock is trying to find out why.





	How Space Pirate Captains Take Their Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> This was written a year or two ago and strictly speaking is unfinished but it had come to a decent stopping point, but I found it again recently and like it enough to post it.

It started with the coffeemaker.

Well, no it actually started a century before when humanity’s elite gave themselves special privileges and pissed off a man with a battleship with a dangerous experimental engine at his disposal.  Even then possibly everything could have been averted if they hadn’t come within whisker’s breath of truly ending his best friend’s existence.  It continued until the man allowed himself to literally fade into the transformed battleship and join his best friend’s spirit after passing the torch and the legend to a young man who bore an uncanny likeness to himself.

But for the sake of the current situation, it began with a coffeemaker that had not been on the bridge of the Arcadia that morning.  The current Captain Harlock knew that because every morning he forgot to bring a mug up from the mess, again, and had to daily weigh the ramifications of going back and getting a mug himself or asking one of the crew to go get him some.  Which shouldn’t seem like such a problem except he was being watched like a hawk by Kei and Yattaran.  Being Captain Harlock meant a certain level of, well, Yama had discovered in order for the legend of Harlock and the Arcadia to function there was a delicate balance of being a dark leather-clad, considerate, compassionate marshmallow and being a complete and utter bastard.  Kei and Yattaran were only trying to do what was best by him.  He could expect some slack from the crew that had been there when the changeover had occurred, but moving forward, adding new crew members, sallying against the Gaia Coalition, taking on the occasional refugees, the mask _could not slip_.

And that meant a daily debate of what to do about the coffee. 

If he ordered someone to get him coffee, something within his rights to do, he’d end up with a mug full of something that had cream and sugar and possibly a drop of coffee for coloring.  Everyone on board knew that was how the Captain took his coffee; they considered it an endearing trait.  It made Yama gag, and when he was being uncharitable he suspected it had just been lining for Harlock’s stomach before the man had his first glass of wine of the day.   

However, if Yama got it himself, got it the way he liked it, a spoonful a sugar a hint of cream but mostly blessed coffee, it could set off rumors that the Captain was planning something, again because everyone knew that the Captain only tolerated coffee that way when he was being a scheming son-of-a-bitch.

In the end he had asked, and had gotten the cream & sugar with the drop of coffee.

So, when hours later, the smell of fresh coffee wafted from somewhere behind the great throne of the Arcadia, his nose turned up in the air like a wolf scenting prey.  He rose and followed his nose to a small alcove he could have sworn was empty earlier and found a small coffee making station.  Yama was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth and got himself a cup of coffee. 

“Captain?” Kei asked coming up behind him, “Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know, I don’t care,” Yama said softly, taking a sip, then considered, “have you noticed any changes to the Arcadia recently?  I’ve been thinking the lights have been a little brighter.”

“Yes, and Yattaran swears new crew members haven’t been getting lost as easily as they use to –  they claim ‘you are here’ maps are lighting up for them.”

They shared a look.

“Yattaran says the maps are not there when he goes looking for them.”

“Perhaps we need to ask Miime what’s going on,” Yama mused.

 

*

They did ask later, when Yama called a meeting of the ship’s commander staff, (Yama, Kei, Yattaran, Miime and of course Tori-san,) if Miime had noticed anything strange going on.

Miime gave them one long slow blink before saying:

“The Arcadia is as it has always been.”

“All right,” Yama said reasonably, “but how did the coffee maker end up on the bridge?”

She blinked again.

“Ask the Arcadia.”

And she walked back into her bower that was the heart of the Arcadia’s engine.

*

Yama went down to the main computer core, and stopped in the doorway.  It was still the computer core as he had first seen it, but…

He couldn’t put his finger on it. 

Still Yama entered and sat down where he had seen Harlock sit and started talking to the computer core, hoping against hope that it would answer him.

In a way that he could understand.

It did answer; with trills and beeps and a few honks no self-respecting computer should be making.  

Yama got the impression that he was being laughed at, not maliciously so, but affectionately like an indulgent older brother – not that he had ever really known what that felt like.  And that was when Yama realized that while nothing physically had changed in the core, the atmosphere of the room had changed.  Where once the air felt heavy, it now felt light.

And dammit it felt like someone was playing hide-n-go-seek and giggling because they were hiding right in front of him.

He growled and stalked away.

*

At least he had the freedom to work a botanical sanctuary into the Arcadia.  It made sense after all, life was returning to Earth, and the discovery of plant life had been responsible for that revelation.  Yama had it constructed off of Tochiro’s old lab, again something that would fit the legend he had assumed.

And in the lab he had found hidden remnants and keepsakes that helped remind him when he wanted to chuck it all and jump ship, that as frustrating as being Harlock was, it had probably been harder for Harlock to be Harlock.  A rare handwritten letter from Tochiro that must have either cost a fortune to send or been smuggled by a trusted intermediary that Yama hadn’t worked up the nerve to read.  A few audio letters that proved that Tochiro had had a passion for his work and for life that would have been either been annoying or positively addicting to be around; the sheer affection and fond exasperation in his voice for Harlock when he gave encouragement over whatever doubts the latter was having had made Yama wonder what Harlock’s corresponding letters had sounded like.  A visual album that contained pictures and videos that made Yama have to do a double take that it was indeed the Harlock he had known in the pictures.  And it was all proof that Ezra had been right that Tochiro had been Harlock best and only friend. 

He had wondered why Harlock had kept it hidden here instead on in his quarters, but decided perhaps he didn’t want to know.

Yama was catching up on a journal article regarding the propagation of “pumpkins” from the planet Casshrn in low gravity environments and the consequent effects on the liquor distilled from their pulp - it was fascinating, and something Yama was thinking of adding to his greenhouse in the interest of ship morale, even if morale was high at the moment – when he got a case of the yawns and decided to lay his head down on the desk for just a moment.

*

Poke.

Poke.

“Wake up, kid!”

Poke.

“Come on, wake up!”

Yama turn his head away from the voice.

“Man, you’re as bad as Phantom,” the voice chuckled, as Yama felt his shoulder being poked again.

“No,” Yama mumbled and rolled his shoulder to get away from the annoyance.

“Well, I’m giving you until ten before I pour this cup of water over you.  One…Two…”

The voice sounded familiar.  But in his barely conscious state Yama couldn’t quite place it.

“…Five…Six…”

Annoying, but kind, and vaguely sounded like…the honking sound the computer core had made?

“Eight…Nine…whoops, careful now, heheh,” Tochiro caught one of Yama’s arms to keep him from falling off of his chair.

It’s funny how different someone looks in reality even if you have seen video footage of them.  After all a camera can only show you what is there, not the energy the person radiates.   Tochiro radiated a lot of energy.

“You’re Tochiro!” Yama exclaimed, then felt his cheek grow hot, because who else could this be?

Tochiro was a stocky man, with a wide smile and longish hair that was not quite as wild as Harlock’s.  He was also taller than Yama would have expected, only slightly under average height, and it took Yama a moment to realize his only frame of reference had been pictures of Tochiro and Harlock together, and that Harlock was certainly taller than average.

“Got it in one,” Tochiro chuckled fondly.

Yama took a moment to look around.  His head started to hurt as he tried to take in what seemed to be a flowing, shifting amalgam of Tochiro’s lab, his botanical bay, the Captain’s quarters, the bridge, the engines, the computer core and someplace he just couldn’t define.  It was unsettling and beautiful and terrifying in turns.

“Where are we?” he asked, shutting his eyes.

“Huh?  Oh, Oh!  Sorry about that,” Tochiro said sheepishly, and Yama felt reality wiggle, “you can open your eyes now.”

“Where are we?” asked again as he cautiously opened his eyes.  Now they seemed to be in a fairly stable oasis made up of Tochiro’s lab, Yama’s plants and the Captain’s quarters.

“We’re in Arcadia.”

“I’m asleep, aren’t I?  And this is all a dream?”

“Yes, and again no,” Tochiro shrugged, “You are asleep, and I suppose technically this is a dream, but you also wanted to have a word with us and you couldn’t understand my answers at the computer core.  So here we are,” he opened his arms in an expansive gesture.

“Right,” Yama nodded, because it did make sense, especially regarding his existence on the Arcadia, “I wanted to ask, no, wait, how did Harlock understand you?  I got nothing from the beeping, and whirring and why the hell did you honk?  Computers shouldn’t honk like that.”

“Harlock understood because he’s been part of the Arcadia from its rebirth, and he and I have known each other since before we could even really talk,” Tochiro said as he turned to go explore Yama’s botanical bay.  Yama had to get up and to follow him or risk losing the conversation, “…there was honking because Harlock kept trying to interrupt.”

“Huh?”

“Harlock kept trying to interrupt and if he had you would have had the whole ship on an uproar – he hasn’t learned volume control really well just yet.  He’s better with gestures.  The coffee-maker on the bridge for example.”

“So you are responsible for that,” Yama felt a flood of relief.

“Harlock actually,” Tochiro carefully examined a hydroponic container of lettuce, “he was concerned that you were unhappy about the coffee.   He prefers hot chocolate himself, but apparently you can’t be a big scary space pirate if you drink hot chocolate with marshmallows.  I told him he could drink whatever he liked since he was a big scary space pirate, but,” he looked at Yama, and rolled his eyes, “he gets notions stuck in his head and they’re damn hard to get out.  Sometimes they’re good, like making sure you can get your own coffee.  Sometimes…” Tochiro shrugged helplessly.

“Sometimes he thinks unraveling the universe is a good idea.”

“Yep.”

“Is he responsible for the ‘you are here’ signs?”

Tochiro nodded.

“It finally hit him that not everyone could make the Arcadia twist around them so that they didn’t get lost.”

“He could do that?” Yama asked incredulously, then thought for a moment and face palmed, “of course he could do that.”

He got another wide grin from Tochiro.

“We’re going to start making more changes to the Arcadia.  Over time,” Tochiro re-assured Yama, “and we’re going to consult you.”

“You’re saying ‘we’; where is he?”

Tochiro turned and looked at the area of the Captain’s quarters.

“Asleep.”

It took Yama a moment realize there was someone in the bed, but the light was so dim in that area he hadn’t noticed, and then he felt a moment of disquiet – how often had he shared the bed with Harlock without knowing it?  He didn’t mind, but he did wonder just how closely connected this reality of the Arcadia was to the one he usually existed in.  It seemed to him he should at least be able to warn a bedmate that he was sometimes a restless sleeper and he didn’t really mean to kick them.  Did Tochiro sleep there as well?  It seemed like they would.  And the bed was big enough for the three of them, and hell they could probably add Miime and Kei too, or just Yattaran.  Yama didn’t think all three of them could fit at once as well.  Well, maybe, if the six of them all snuggled together really closely, and Tori-san could nest on the….why was he thinking about this again? 

Since Yama wasn’t paying attention, Tochiro grabbed his chin and turned him to face him.

“I wanted a chance to talk to you without him hovering over my shoulder,” he said letting go, “he’s protective, of both of us, and I want you able to ask questions without him worrying about you accidently hurting my feelings or my answers accidently hurting yours.”

*

The next day on the bridge Yama prepared is his own cup of coffee, and a cup of hot chocolate that he set aside.  Kei watched him curiously.

“Captain?”

Both of them heard a faint “Thank you,” and the cup of hot chocolate disappeared.

Yama smiled.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case you're wondering neither Harlock nor Tochiro would mind if Yama ever went through with his idea of a puppy-pile involving the Arcadia's command staff. Of course it would involve Yama having to explain that Harlock and Tochiro are there on another metaphysical level. But nothing's perfect.


End file.
